


A Dream Come True

by Eclissy



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: X & Y | Pokemon X & Y Versions
Genre: And really short, I don't know if some stuff here counts as violence but maybe, Other, it's mostly supposed to be something small and funny, slight Malva/Protagonist, slight usage of swear words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-13 20:45:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7985608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eclissy/pseuds/Eclissy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Team Flare was successful in making a beautiful world and Malva is perfectly fine to reap the rewards, lounging at the top of the Hotel Richissime. She's so fine that she'll toss anyone who says otherwise off of a cliff. Everything is fine!</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Dream Come True

This was the life.

Back in the old days, Malva would have to shell out one hundred grand for a night at the Hotel Richisimme, which honestly was a pittance but the transferal was a chore.

Now she didn’t have to. Never again. Because, the entire building was her home! From the entrance to the fifth floor, she could do as she pleased.

Leaning back on the leather couch in the hotel’s grand suite, Malva admired the personal touches she had added to the room and the bright sun lighting the city outside.

“Shall we go on our walk? It’s a lovely day.” Malva patted her Pyroar who said nothing. Of course she would say nothing. Pyroar was dead, stuffed, and fitted with doll eyes that the idiot taxidermist had sewn in cross-eyed.

_‘I was a singer! Not a taxidermist!’_ They had whined. _‘Deal with it! No one on Team Flare was a taxidermist. Now leave me alone to cry over my dead children.’_

“Rude,” Malva clicked her tongue, having annoyed herself with the memory. “I shouldn’t have given her that tip. Oh but she did manage to get you right,” She looked up at the ceiling where her now stiff as a statue Talonflame hung. “As colorful as when you were alive to chirp back at me. Now how about that walk?” She turned to the Pyroar, smile twitching when cotton began to leak out of its mouth.

“I do not suggest going on that walk,” Xerosic said from beside her. “It took Emma and I several hours to drive over the hundreds of corpses lining the streets.”

“That’s strange…” Malva rested her elbow on the arm of the couch and glanced out the window. Xerosic was right. Lots and lots of bodies were out there. Some were alone, some had a lover to hang on to, and since the ultimate weapon was fired during school hours, entire classes of children laying outside never got to see their parents again. “Wow. Give me a second.” She raised a finger before emptying the ice out of a nearby champagne bucket.

Xerosic coughed into his fist while she vomited into her third silver bucket. Not that there was much left to throw up in the first place.

“Huh,” Malva tossed the bucket with the others, tapping her chin like she was in actual serious thought. “I guess that means another inside day," She paused, blinking at Xerosic through her rose tinted glasses. "By the way, who invited you here? Get out. No, wait.” She pushed her glasses up. “I almost forgot! You brought Emma with you. How’s the young lady doing?”

“The same as always,” Xerosic shrugged. “Dead. Like everyone else,” He turned to Emma. Her head had rolled to the side again so he carefully righted it and leaned it against the couch.

“You know kids. They won’t do anything on an empty stomach. Just toss her a snack.”

“There’s no food left,” Xerosic stated, flat. “In theory, Team Flare has enough people to operate the processes that we scientists had come up with to keep a sustainable society. Then, the majority of those people found that they couldn’t go through with mass genocide without receiving serious mental trauma.”

Crap. Being immortal was going to suck if they were going to starve the whole time.

“Who knew Team Flare was filled with so many cowards?” Malva tsked, sinking into the couch as she bit one of her knuckles. “What does Lysandre have to say about this?”

“He’s been busy talking to Augustine Sycamore.”

Malva raised a perfectly outlined brow.

“Sycamore wasn’t a member of team Flare.”

“I believe Lysandre is speaking to his body. Last words for an old friend as it were.”

“How long have they been talking?”

Xerosic’s shoulders rose and fell in time with his long drawn out sigh.

“About four weeks.”

“Hm, there must have been much to take care of,” Malva reasoned, watching Xerosic try to keep Emma’s jaw from falling open. “I should go out there and light some fires. Lysandre can’t return to this mess. These idiots can’t do a thing on their own.”

“Then what have you been doing this entire time?” Xerosic asked her politely but Malva took it as an accusation.

“How dare you question me! I’ve been here making very important calls!” Malva took her phone out and dialed a number.

It rang. And rang. And rang and rang before she hit voicemail.

The voice was Drasna’s. In her usual cheery tone, she told Malva “I literally hate you.”

The line went dead and Malva moved on to the next number.

“When you told me that you’d rather live with yeast infection than me…” Wilkstrom began. “—I thought you were merely jesting.”

“These jokers have enough time to change their voicemails but not speak to me?” Malva muttered, sweating enough to fill a bathtub. “They know how much I hate having my time wasted.” She dialed another number.

“I always believed in you,” Diantha told her. “You know I did.”

“You could have joined! It would have been easy!” Malva screamed back, jabbing another number into her phone.

“No matter how many times we fought, I loved that we always talked,” Siebold said. “Did you?”

“I do! So talk to me!” Malva couldn’t see straight, punching random numbers into her phone until it started to screech.

The scientist covered his ears with his hands, only realizing that it was the stuffed Talonflame screeching, not the phone, when the thing dropped and crashed into the coffee table.

“Malva, this is a mess.” He said.

“Don’t worry,” Emma’s head snapped off of her neck and into Xerosic’s lap. “You can fix this mess. You’re the smartest person I know.”

Xerosic, instead of being amazed at the defilement of logic, began to weep.

“Shut the fuck up! I’m trying to make calls!” Malva bashed her phone against the window until it broke. The wind outside howled and screamed like the people and pokemon outside were still dying. “Fuck!”

She threw her phone down and stomped repeatedly on the thing but it wouldn’t crack.

One last voice came through.

“Malva?” It was younger, and softer than how the voice usually was but the former Elite Four member dropped to her knees and frantically grabbed at the pieces of her phone.

“A long long time ago, I finally got enough money to buy a Holocaster.” They began. Malva froze, listening intently to the story.

“I was so nervous. I needed the Holocaster but it also cost two paychecks and three wallets. If I broke it, I’d jump off a bridge…but I guess that didn’t matter all that much,” They trailed off as Malva bit into her lip. “I put off using the Holocaster for the longest time. Then, I heard it ring and a news bulletin came on. That was the first time I saw you.”

Suddenly, the wind went silent and all Malva could hear during the voice’s pause was how hard she was gripping her phone.

“You’ll think I’m stupid. I really am but I was star-struck. I couldn’t even speak after you were done. What I mean to say is, I dreamed about meeting you. I was sure it was more likely that you’d hate me on the spot than not think of me at all, but that’s fine. I’d be happy no matter what.” They grew even quieter, trying to hide their voice cracking.

“Are you glad? In the end, we never met.”

The line went dead and the floor crumbled, cascading into a five story drop. Malva plummeted, battered by the rubble, and desperately clawed for the phone as millions of hands in the road below reached for her.

Malva smashed her shoulder against the floor and woke up, in her apartment.

Checking around the dark room, she realized she had fallen on the side of the bed facing the curtains. With tentative hands, Malva pulled the curtains back and her eyes were immediately assaulted by the city lights. The red numbers on the clock told her it was three in the morning and the city was still fucking awake.

“What a garbage dream. Fucking fourth time this week.” Malva muttered angrily to herself, entirely sure she wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep.

Feeling like setting one of her houseplants on fire, Malva decided to toy with her phone instead. Dialing the new champion’s number, she waited for the voicemail to come up.

“Hello?” A groggy and irritated voice on the other end of the line spoke. Malva didn’t hang up right away. She waited a few seconds, listening to the sound of them breathing before ending the call.

**Author's Note:**

> So if something doesn't add up before the point where Malva wakes up, chalk it up to dreams being weird. Also, I was thinking that it's one thing to say 'we'll wipe everyone out and make a beautiful world!' and another to actually do it and be fine with yourself afterwards. Sure these are jerks who shelled out 5mill for it but I believe most are still human people like Malva might have trouble even after the fact that they failed. Especially here where hint hint, she quite likes the protagonist (who is a blank slate for you to shove a Callum/Serena into but my 'Serena' is rougher around the edges and has some other background points that I added).


End file.
